


Greetings from St. Petersburg!

by Dziabara



Series: Greetings from St. Petersburg! [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Comedy, Domestic, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, I heard you like lemons, Kissing, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, Switching, Top Katsuki Yuuri, and ice is dangerous too, autumn is dangerous, cause Victor, dorks walking with dog, proud Hiroko, so I put lemon into..., some problems with morning boner, yo dawg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-28
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-02-02 08:16:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dziabara/pseuds/Dziabara
Summary: A collection of slightly related one-shots about Victor and Yuuri (and Maccachin!) living in St. Petersburg. Illegal amounts of sugar and fluff, some evening spice and, of course, tons of love.





	1. Greetings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 17th January, 2017

Early in the morning, Yu-topia was maybe not the most besieged place in the universe, but since Yuuri won his first silver medal in the Grand Prix Final, even before noon a large crowd of people coming for breakfast. That's why Hiroko had been bustling so early, so she could separate the meat for the pork chops, tidy up a table with souvenirs and sweep snow from the entrance to the onsen. And on this last step, she was found by Mr. Satoshi, about the forty-years-old postman, who even in the worst weather was able to force his worn motorbike to break through the snowy seaside town.  
  
"Good morning, dear Mrs. Hiroko! There is no dull moment with this winter, isn't it?" he greeted as soon as he came down from the vehicle and pushed his helmet out of sight.  
  
"Good morning, good morning," the woman replied with a smile as she looked at the postman. A broom went on a temporary vacation. "Surely there is a bit more work to do but clients arrive thanks to the weather. In such cold, you really want to use hot springs.  
  
"True, it's all true. There is no better thing than take the hot bath when others have to freeze. I guess I'll go to your onsen soon," the postman sighed, but then he spun on his heel and peered into a motorbike box. "But now I have some mail for you. What have we got here... Standard bills... A new catalog of plants... And a parcel...  
  
"I hope this is the cookbook I ordered for Yuuri," Hiroko said when she took a rectangular bundle.  
  
"Ah! And since we have talked about your son, I remembered that I still have something special," the postman rummaged a few letters between his fingers until he pulled out from his briefcase a small card. "Straight from Russia. Postcard from Yuuri and his young coach."  
  
The woman opened her eyes wider, put the remaining packages on a wooden table in the lobby, came back and carefully took the postcard from Mr. Satoshi's hands. All in all, the postman didn't have to look at the sender's name to know that the shipment actually came from the younger child of Katski family - in the end, the picture in front of postcard presents a blue couch with the interested couple, accompanied by a brown poodle.  
  
Hiroko smiled widely at the sight of her sons. It was easy to guess that the photo was taken with a small help of a self-timer because men located on the couch were posing a little... well... chaotic. Yuuri took place on the right side and probably was about to hold his hand on the back of the shaggy poodle, but the animal seemed too happy to stay in one place. In the same time Vicchan was half-standing, half-sitting, but then Makkachin raised his front paws and partially pushed himself against Russian knees. In response Yuuri laughed, calling out something to the poodle (or maybe to Vicchan?) and trying to stop him from falling over the second man. But Vicchan, with his usual heart-shaped smile, grabbed Yuuri's arms and hugged him with his upper half of the body like a child who was longing for attention. As a result, none of them sat quietly, but the number of holding hands or limbs made an impression that they feel absolutely comfortable in their company. The fact that the photo was so carefree and warm so Hiroko couldn't stop smiling meant one - Yuuri happily settled in Vicchan's apartment.  
  
"They moved out recently, right?" Mr. Satoshi asked as he closed the mailbox and got on his motorbike. "Is that mean that Yuuri already misses home?"  
  
"No, probably not." The woman lifted her head from the paper and looked gently at the postman. In spite of the January frosts, her eyes were full of warm sparkles. "I think he's in really good hands."  
  
Hiroko had some nice premonitions about it... Or rather premonitions and short information, which appeared on the other side postcard both in Russian and in Japanese.  
  
Greetings from St. Petersburg!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I post something in English, so I'm a little nervous. Sorry for any errors. I'll be grateful if you let me know what's wrong.
> 
> At this moment, I created almost 90 parts of this series, but I'm not sure how they will be accepted, so I'll try to translate at least this ones which are the closest to my heart. First part is a prelude to the action and what will happen in St. Petersburg after moving (in my headcanon Yuuri did it in early January, after the Japanese championship). All parts are going to be published in non-chronological order, but I hope that some events will be understandable in future. For me it's also a part of fun.
> 
> Thanks for reading, check my account on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) for updates and see you soon!


	2. Autumn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 24th October, 2017

***  
  
After three days of endless rain and two next days, which were announcing something closer to the apocalypse rather than recovery of weather, the sun finally broke through heavy lead clouds and flashed majestically over St. Petersburg. Finally, because walks with Makkachin stopped to be series of unwanted baths and started to be pleasure. Victor and Yuuri took the opportunity and went to the Winter Palace, just three kilometers away from their home, to enjoy remnants of the golden autumn.  
  
And that was really something to admire. Of course, the palace itself was impressive, but due to the weather, the nearby park became the main attraction of the day. Although this afternoon was extremely warm, inevitable temperatures of autumn massively transformed trees into colorful torches, burning in yellow, red or rusty. Those overripe leaves, whose time had already come, took off from twigs and flew to the ground, spinning in their farewell dance. The late October sun shimmered as sharply as if it wanted to give its final show before falling asleep in the winter and plunging the city into famous, pitch dark St. Petersburg's nights.  
  
So far, however, the day was at its best, allowing Mother Nature to give a performance no less spectacular than those presented by skaters on ice. Makkachin was snapping his jaws, trying to catch the late Indian summer and fluttering leaves in his teeth and the people walking around the park were reacting to him with laughs. Two skaters walked just behind the happy poodle, holding hands as tight as if they didn’t want to get lost in the whole sea of crunchy, crusty and rustling leaves under their feet. Maybe it was hard to find meadows covered with spring flowers in St Petersburg, but at least this few lovely parks, which were scattered over the city, were full of romantic autumn landscapes. Even so, the fiancées took only half of their attention to charm of nature, because the face of the other person and their love gazes were making up every shortage of scenery.  
  
The warm silence was disturbed by one funny accident. Makkachin was still jumping like crazy, trying to become the first dog-glider in the world, but at some point he overrun his powers and fell like a real torpedo right in a small pile of leaves which some children had heaped up near the sprawling maple. Victor chuckled, released Yuuri's hand from his and rushed behind sneezing pet, shouting with pride that he must teach him to jump a real quadrupole flip. Master’s dog should use only masterly techniques!  
  
They say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree - in the middle of golden "fall" this proverb has gained a special meaning. And especially in the context of "falling".  
  
Yuuri apparently guessed with a sixth sense what his fiancé was going to do and exactly before the Russian skater had managed to jump over the pile of leaves left by their poodle, Yuuri exclaimed. “Victor, it's slippery ...!”  
  
Too late. Like pet, like owner. Victor’s leg was moving forward and he, in his last skating instinct, fell on his back directly into the mound, raising a small, colorful geyser of leaves in the air. That was two zero for the heap against the Katsuki-Nikiforov family.  
  
Slowly falling leaves danced over Victor's head. Variety of colors, like autumn’s fireworks, flickered before blue eyes, and the warm, dry rain fell so abundantly that the random chestnut leaf flew to his face, covering the whole view. Fortunately, this didn’t take long, because after a while Victor heard the rustle of approaching steps and some seconds later a shadow appeared over his stretched body. Someone gasped, crouching over and then... A warm hand took the leaf off Victor’s nose and…  
  
Brown. Deep and shiny like oak leaves. Like eyes of laughing Yuuri who knelt near the top of silver head and when he just saw that everything with Victor is ok, he shook his head with disapproval. Victor did not believe that exist eyesight more beautiful than Yuuri's, even when he saw in them a flash of amusement. Victor was able to make some magnificent metaphorical comparisons of this brown color with color of amber or melted chocolate, but the truth was that the greatest compliment was those eyes themselves.  
  
Gold. Bright and glistering like lime leaves. Like a ring on Yuuri's warm-hearted finger when the men brushed his silver hair down from his brow and tucked them behind his ear. Gently, with care. Katsuki could laugh, he could mock so much as he want, but his gestures always betrayed him. So the engraving on rings, which has the shape of a split snowflake, connecting two skaters with no less power than the promise of a marriage when Yuuri won the next Grand Prix Final. And he will do it. This year. For sure.  
  
Red. Intense and pure as maple leaves. Like Yuuri's mouth when he spoke with the most lovely way in the world, whether it was sweet, unplanned words or some meaningful messages. True, Victor did not have a global comparison, he didn't actually have it at all, because he had never walked with anyone in the gardens of the Winter Palace, holding hands and fooling around in the heap of leaves... But with unshakeable confidence he knew there was no wonderful voice coming out of equally wonderful lips.  
  
“Crazy," Yuuri whispered, looking at Victor and trying not to drop his glasses from nose. Victor didn’t deny it. After all, he was crazy in love from the beginning. “Never do that again. If you had died here, I wouldn’t have been able to explain how living legend who performed the most difficult quad flips was killed by some childish jump. I think I'd have to bury you under that pile of leaves.”  
  
Victor started laughing. He spread his arms to both sides, not bothering himself with a completely open coat or a brown Japanese scarf that tickled his cheeks, and so he enjoyed his happiness. No, not for the reason that he survived, although it was not so completely meaningless. It was mainly cause of a touching feeling that warmed the chest when someone familiar lips clung to his forehead.  
  
That for sure was love - because none of autumn sunlight was as bright and warm as the kiss of the one and only sun of Victor's life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this fanfic based on the beautiful autumn fanart made by one of the most fantastic artist in fandom, [minatu](http://minatu.tumblr.com/). It all started with the fact that she made a challenge on Twitter to describe situation in only 140 characters and of course I took part in it (and this is exactly the last sentence in my one-shot). Unfortunately, I'm not a type of person who can write very shortly so all in all I did a full scene. Not the first and perhaps not the last time... But I am also very, very grateful for an inspiration and I hope that I could show even a little of this fantastic autumn energy from fanart.
> 
> Thanks a lot for all kudos, comments and bookmarks! It makes me unbelieable happy and give me power to write more ;u;
> 
> And please, follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) for updates ;)
> 
> See you next time!


	3. Lemon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 6th March, 2017

***

Under a pile of white bedding, like a skier under an avalanche, Yuuri lay and occasionally made weird sound when a muffled cough came out from his throat. Surrounded by pillows and covered with a quilt, he slowly recovered after a situation when his film with memories suddenly had stopped on the ice rink. Fortunately a shuffle of approaching slippers had announced that his lifeguard, doctor and also babysitter in one entered to the bedroom.

"Yuuri, don't scare me like that anymore. I thought you finally got a heart attack.” Seeing that Yuuri wasn't sleeping anymore, Victor sat sideways on the bed and put a mug of steaming drink on the nearest table. “Is this one of these famous Japanese colds?”

"I don't know if it's famous, but it's definitely effective," he rasped, pushing the blanket out of his mouth. “Don’t worry, in a day or two everything should be back to normal.”

But Victor didn't trust him. He leaned over the lying man and pressed his forehead to Yuuri's forehead, checking the temperature, just in case. Yuuri felt that his care certainly had an enormous effect on a rise of the fever by some tenths of degrees, that was completely unrelated with illness.

"I think it's a bit better," said Victor, moving away from the patient. “Are you thirsty?”

"A little," Yuuri nodded.

“Okay, I think I have something that should make you feel better.”

Victor helped him sit down and then reached for the cup he had brought. Victor pulled his lips and began to blow, chasing away the steam which were flying over the mug. There was something incredibly moving in this scene, which made Yuuri more happy than a prepared medicine.

“Now open your mouth”, Victor pleased when he put the cup to his lips and carefully tilted it.

 “Mm, strange. But tasty," Yuuri grimaced slightly when he swallowed a sip of the warming drink. “What is it?”

“Tea with lemon. Old, grandmother's way for colds.” Victor offered the mug so that Yuuri could see the slice of citrus floating inside. “Do you want more?” Victor made sure.

“Yeah.”

Yuuri clung his lips to the edge of mug and drank the pleasantly warm tea down. While he was drinking the last drops of liquid from the tilted cup, his mouth touched the citrus. Without thinking Yuuri grabbed the lemon with his teeth and carefully removed fruit from the cup, biting it slightly. Some of juice flowed out from the torn slice and dripped over the feverish lips and a chin. Victor murmured. He already knew that Yuuri with his uncontrolled licks regularly led him to the edge of patience.

"Don’t do this," he instructed, taking the cup and put his face close to Yuuri. "Give it back," Victor said unconvincingly.

"Nofe," Yuuri replied like he expected what would happen next.

Victor sighed and then he grasped the lemon on the other side with his teeth. But when he saw that the opponent is not giving up and still bravely holding his prey, he parted his mouth wider and grabbed the greater part of the citrus, pressing his lips to the lips of his beloved fiance. Sour juice flowed out of the fruit, getting in between the tongues of both men. Under the influence of a sour aftertaste Yuuri winced and finally broke away from an intense kiss, letting Victor eat the entire slice of lemon. His eyelids didn't move and Victor even licked his lips, clearly pleased with the turn of things.

" _Vkusno_ ,” he thanked, rubbing Yuuri's mouth with his thumb and then he got out of the bed. “Now come back to the bed and feel better, _moy zolotsye_.”

“But where are you going?” Yuuri asked.

So Victor turned around and winked knowingly to Yuuri, who buried himself back under the blanket, half-healed after the influence of the lover's caress.

“Buy more lemons. Much more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> moy zolotsye - my gold
> 
> This is first ficlet form this series I ever made. About year ago my friend gave me some keywords and challanged me to write some short stories and... and that's how it come. I know it wasn't super described part, but I really like it. And it has nice ending. Good job, Victor :3
> 
> So... if you want know about updates, follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) :)
> 
> Sorry for all mistakes and thanks for reading! See you next time!


	4. Boner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 2nd March, 2017

***

As soon as Victor opened his eyes, he realized in a flash that this wake-up call was a little different from yesterday. And the day before yesterday. And before-before. And... damn. That hadn't happened for a long time. Not with someone. Never with Yuuri.

But the unusual nature of whole situation wasn't the fault of the clock, which showed some inhuman time like twenty past four in the morning, neither the position in which fiancés were hugged to each other. Or rather - not only.

Victor gulped. Easy, boy, just easy. Calm down. No panic. Don't think about this sweet sleeping beauty and his parted lips, from which a drop of saliva had run down in an inelegant way, but the same lips, along with saliva, were touching Victor's naked back. Don't think about the warm hand slung over the belt, because it only threatened to death and one-way travel straight to gates of hell. Don't think of pale but ideal thighs (as if Michelangelo himself shaped them!), pressed against his own thighs, when the owner of divine limbs unconsciously threw one leg over Victor, completely taking the dominion over Mr. Nikiforov. And above all of that, he had a strict ban of thinking about Yuuri's hips, which he felt, oh, he felt with every detail, because the crotch hidden behind the black Japanese boxers touched his almost bare buttocks...

Yuuri muttered in his sleep and moved, involuntarily strengthening the grip even more, for which the morning accident in the Russian underpants reminded him of its presence.

Victor suppressed the urge to moan. Well... He was just a guy. Who slept only in underwear. Next to the most sexy Eros in the world. Who were seducing him over and over, even during the sleep. Such things just happened. It would be strange if these things did NOT happen. And that's why he should enjoy this current state of affairs - after all, it was a normal, healthy, human reaction for connection with a loved one. And so what that innocent cuddling with some help of twisted Freudian paths of thought turned into a spicy dream with naked Katsuki training only in skates? He couldn't blame himself nor Miniforov, which was far more susceptible to suggestion. After all, there was absolutely no power capable of resisting such beautiful legs. And, of course, all the rest.

The problem, however, still remained the problem and couldn't be ignored just like that. So Victor decided that he quietly go to the bathroom to take matters into his own hands... But it wasn't that easy. As soon as he get out of the bed to leave his fiancé to the mercy of cold, Yuuri's hands caught him, grasping around his waist more tightly.

For all gods of figure skating sake, not now!

"Yuuri..." he whispered as gently as he could, trying to spread fingers that were embracing him. "Yuuri, please, let go. I need to go to the toilet. I promise I'll be back soon."

"But the costume..." Yuuri murmured dreamily. "It has a zipper on its back... You can't do it alone..."

"What? What zipper?" Victor was surprised.

So... At the same time, when the Russian mind was trying to deny the picture of Yuuri delightfully twitching in their bed, Katsuki's wild imagination apparently gave him a dream of Nikiforov in some tight skating costume. With the zipper on the back. Which Yuuri wanted to pull apart to get into...

No, no, no, there is no way! Ugly imagination, no-good! Lie! Do not touch!

"I'll help you..."

Yuuri didn't have any insight into Victor's galloping thoughts, so he didn't know that the kiss lodged between fiancé’s shoulders almost sent him to the other world. He didn't know either that his hands, which had been slowly going down and had been stroking him on the inner side of thighs, wasn't the best idea. And there was no idea at all, because all of it were announcing one enormous catastrophe in which this twenty-eight-year-old Russian ice skater played the role of an insatiable deviant. In every inch. Many inches.

"No, no, don't move! I can handle it...!" Victor tried to get out of his arms, but too late. A shiver of excitement ran along the entire spine to the fingertips when Yuuri's hand touched at the bulge in Victor’s pants. "Yuuri!"

Yuuri opened his eyes and slightly raised his head, as if he had just woken up now. The sleepy mind slowly digested the information and then, just to make sure, Yuuri shamelessly laid his hand on Victor's crotch, touching his cock. Nikiforov shivered. It was something about seven out of ten on the scale of embarrassment. And the result still grew. Literally.

"Ah. So that’s… why,” Yuuri understood, putting his head back on the pillow. “Sorry.”

"No, it's my fault... I should apologize you for this awkwa… aw... aaa...” Victor sighed involuntarily, when Yuuri, wanting to assess the state of Victor's excitement, suddenly slipped hand under the line of briefs. “Yuuri! What are you doing?!”

"I'll take responsibility for that," he whispered and kissed Victor's neck, exactly where one of his soft points was. It seemed that the Japanese side of this conflict wouldn't take any prisoners. But instead of this he took something else. Oh, he took it very eager.

"Yuuri, you don't, ah, you don't have to... Just give me... Oh God..." Victor tried to argue, but series of caresses in form of gentle bites on his shoulder, abdomen which was rubbing against his ass and fingers wrapped around his cock defeated any objection. "Just give me more..."

"Uhm," Yuuri agreed, starting to move his clenched hand.

Yuuri caressed the tip of hard penis with his thumb, while the other hand joined the work, gently massaging balls. Kisses were covering the back of Russian neck like it was summer rain: warm, damp and so incredibly pleasant that Victor closed his eyes, melting from pleasure. Yuuri acted instinctively, not making any unnecessary sound, while from Victor's throat again and again escaped stifled gasps and soft moans. The cool attitude of his beloved one excited Victor even more, making him ready in few minutes. Just a moment ago Victor only wanted to call for a fire brigade (it was winter, March, St. Petersburg, and yet his body burned like a dry tropical forest after being wet with gasoline), an ambulance... or maybe first for a pop... But now if he needed some priest, Victor would like to make a marriage vow at an accelerated rate.

Although it may be better for the ceremony to wait a quarter more or less. Literally. At this intensity of caresses, there was no possibility that Victor would endure too long, because consciously or not, Yuuri intended to break the personal record in making his fiancé come.

Victor flexed, biting his lower lip, and clench his fingers into the embraced pillow when he was flooded with the shudders of a strong orgasm. The state of elation lasted until Victor relaxed and shuddered with oversensitivity due to Yuuri's hand still moving along his cock. Then the sobriety of thinking revive him like a bucket of cold water, forcing him to grab Yuuri's wrists and took his hands away from the crotch. Right in time.

"Yuuri," he moaned, reaching hastily for paper towel to wipe Katsuki's fingers. "I... It was..."

The word "unbelievable" fought for the first position with "unnecessary", but Victor couldn't decide on anything. So he was stammering like an idiot and, in the end, he lost his words, at the same time getting rid of white traces of his guilt from beloved hands. So much beloved... And if it wasn't the middle of night, he would had grabbed Yuuri in his arms and had kissed franticly each one of this sweet fingers, one by one, because they gave him an incomparably greater pleasure than a cool toilet seat and his own fist.

Oh, that's right... Since earlier caresses almost brought Victor's blood to boil, then Yuuri could also need a small... help. And here Victor came into action.

Okay, okay. He already came. So that's why it was someone else’s turn.

"Yuuri... To have fun in the middle of night like some Eros, who secretly seduces Psyche... Shame on you," Victor whispered in a soft, somewhat coquettish voice, when he already calmed down and threw wet towel to the nearby basket. Then the man bent his leg to flirtatiously brush Yuuri's foot. "In that case, would you like to have some small rematch?"

Nothing. Katsuki's hands returned to the old position, embracing Victor at the height of his stomach, but after that he didn't say even a word. He was ashamed? He didn't want to bother him? Or maybe he was waiting for the opportunity to escape to the bathroom and take care of himself? Oh, no, no, not today. Whatever Yuuri planned, he won't get out of this bed just like that. Not after what he did. What fantastic he did. What he did without hesitation and for Victor's comfort. So Yuuri deserved everything and even more.

"Maybe you want to go all the way?" Victor offered, reaching down with his hand to stroke Yuuri's thigh. "What do you think, Yuuri? We don't even have to change positions... If you want, I can take care of... everything."

Victor hung his voice and coquettishly rubbed his butt against Yuuri's cock. He thought he can repay him like this. That Yuuri would be able to continue playing inaccessible Eros, whose face he can't see, because that god could vanish into the air. That they could do it slowly, hearing only their voices and feeling a warm touch of their connected bodies. That after everything they could fall asleep, one holding to another, the cheek close to the other back, hands on the waist, the ass near... near...

Wait. Something was wrong. Victor clung to Yuuri again, expecting some sign of interest after the suggestion of early-morning sex.

But there was no comment. No reaction. No... erection?

"Yuuri?"

In response Nikiforov heard a quiet snore and on his back he felt a regular pressure of floating chest. Yuuri fell asleep. Just like that. He didn’t care that he had left his dumbfounded fiancé and his heated body for eternal torment (well, okay, not eternal, only to six o'clock, and not for torment, but for well-deserved rest), probably forgetting about the whole incident. Victor did his thing, Victor can leave. Or rather Yuuri. As always, Yuuri. Oh, Yuuri…

"You're horrible." Still, Victor smiled to himself, closing his eyes and closing Yuuris's hands in his hands. In the end, he always wanted to be surprised. So he was. In every second and every hour of the day and night.

"Colorful dreams, my little, naughty Eros."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I promised, I publish a part which is far more suitable for M-raiting. And is also more lemon that previous "lemon" ;)  
> Poor Victor. He really wanted to sacrifise himself (but you don't need to worry, in my headcanon they are switching in bed), but Yuuri is so hard sleepyhead... Or rather non-hard sleepyhead.  
> Well, maybe I should stop this puns before they'll be hard to bear _^_ Haha... ha...  
> Thanks a lot for reading and I hope that I'll see you soon with more "Greetings"! :*


	5. Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 2nd February, 2017

***

“But where are you taking me again?” Yuuri sighed, giving his hand to Victor, who were humming under his breath.

“It’s-a-se-cret!” he answered melodiously, pleased and proud of himself as a peacock. And when he was pleased and proud of himself, he never meant something as trivial as a walk or a date in cinema. Or a shopping, that he was supposed to do, because Katsuki had been asking him for it since two days ago, not even mention.

So Yuuri had no other choice, but turned his eyes and let his excited fiance run until they reached one of many bridges that made St. Petersburg famous as the Venice of the East.

“Aaand... Here we are!” Victor presented, standing in the middle of bridge and pointing to cast iron balustrades and lanterns with dozens of padlocks pinned to them.

Something in Yuuri's stomach fluttered when he realized what it was all about. In the end, even a chronically antisocial man like him known what it meant to hang a padlocks on the bridge. Especially for a couple.

”And look what a nice piece I chose for us!” Victor closed near to Yuuri and then he pulled a shapely blue padlock out of his coat pocket. “It's the color of your glasses, right? It matched? It’ll be a good symbol?”

“Yes, it matched, but... Oh, okay, I got this, yes, it is… But... But do you have any marker? So we can write our names?” he replied with a question to his question, trying to conceal the affection that was caused by the beloved's latest idea.

“Of course!”

“Permanent?”

“Perma...” The uncertainty with which the smiling Russian said it could have been an answer in itself. “Are there any other?”

Yuuri looked down right at the pen. Well... To say or not to say? That is the question.

"Victor," he began gently, which should immediately alert the other man. “You took the normal one. This is just a simply marker for children.”

“Are you kidding me?” Victor gasped, looked on inscription which Yuuri had showed, and then he moaned in disappointment that he had made so enormous mistake. “Yuuri, what have I done?! I just killed our love!”

 _If people really parted because of markers, then this world should erupt ages ago_ , thought Katsuki, but he didn't say it aloud.

“I mean, just take it easy. It's still enough to make few lines,” Yuuri said cheerfully, but it didn't work. Victor still looked as if it was whole of his pre-marital plans that had collapsed, not the happy date on the bridge.

"But any rain will wash away the inscription," he observed, then he hung his head. “I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I screwed it up. Totally.”

"Yes, of course, we’ll all die," Yuuri replied calmly, taking the blue padlock and the pen from Victor's hands. Yuuri removed the tip of black marker with his teeth and when he was muttering under his breath the whole Russian alphabet, he painted on the metal surface a trivial text composed of their names and a “X” between. Then one more thought came to Yuuri, so he turned the padlock upside-down and wrote on the back "Victuuri", just like skating fandom used to call them.

“Where will we pin it?” he asked, closing the pen and looking at the drowsy Victor, but he didn’t react, broken by the size of his failure.

Yuuri sighed. So the decision also belonged to him. The skater looked quickly around the bridge, finding a decent place under a solid cast-iron padlock. Making a provisional roof with it, he attached a small, blue padlock to the grid, and then he touched it, satisfied with the whole effect. At last Yuuri squeezed a key and threw it into the water - he only hoped it didn't falled under any heading about littering the river.

Yuuri finally stood up and then he walked to the still slightly disappointed Victor, who had just began the monologue of hurried arguments he used to justify his horrible inattention.

“Yuuri, I'm so, so sorry... I promise that tomorrow I'll buy even bigger and prettier padlock, so don't think I don't care of you, because I do. And I'll take twenty markers, permanent as forever, so even acid rain won't destroy it. And...”

“Victor.”

The name, said with a calm, almost cool tone, was enough to silence Nikiforov. Yuuri sighed and stood just in front of him.

“If the rain removes the inscription, we will come back here and redo it. If anything wash it again, we will come back here again. Together.” During the conversation, Yuuri took the Victor's face in his hands, ordering his fiancé to look at himself. “We will come here day by day, year by year, until the melting glaciers flood St. Petersburg and the whole bridge will be eaten by rust. But our padlock will not move anywhere. Do you understand?”

The Russian nodded, as if it would be possible that chemical processes were in Victor's jurisdiction, and glaciers just froze at every his nod. But for such a determined lover, he would be ready to learn it.

“So don't you think that's a better solution to look after our love every day than to hang a random padlock once and not bother with it anymore?” Yuuri tipped up on his toes so he might bring his lips closer to Victor's lips. “And would you like to forget something like that too?”

Yuuri lifted himself a little more and finally he carefully kissed Victor. He still had not dealt with showing his feelings in public places like that, but he knew that it was just a situation of extreme emergency.

Because he meant... so after such a declaration... that they forever...

Yuuri's knees suddenly softened, but luckily Victor held him up, grabbing his waist.

“Oh... And are you sure that you've never been here?” Victor asked, looking into Katsuki's eyes, charmingly exposed by glasses sliding to the edge of his nose. “That you have never ever made such fiery speeches before and didn't know that hanging the padlock must be, well... consummated afterwards?”

Yuuri shook his head, denying everything.

“I don't even know how this bridge is called.”

" _Potseluyev Most_ " Victor said, then he closed eyes and closed Yuuri's lips with his. “Bridge of Kisses.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! This time I made a little portion of fluff and some unpredictable Yuuri, who showed his inner, more lovely side. But he's right, right? Victor always thinks about something big, romantic, spectacular, when Yuuri is far more practical... and greedy at the same time. "Day by day, year by year", huh... You said that, you little Eros ;)
> 
> Thank you for all your support, still sorry for mistakes (I regulary correct some of them) and see you soon!
> 
> :*


	6. Gloves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 18th January, 2017

***

Yuuri forgot. He, man from Japan, where people were always well prepared for typhoons, earthquakes and furious colds, forgot about something as trivial as gloves. Of course, he expected that something escaped form his mind if he moved to Victor's apartment, but he felt like the biggest idiot in the world not anticipating that it is climate which makes this huge country different from the Land of the Rising Sun. So far, Yuuri managed to forget about it somehow, but today weather in St. Petersburg decided not to show mercy, not to take prisoners and, especially, have it up its nose that at this moment Yuuri's fingers were frozen like, haha, hell. So Katsuki, wrapped from everywhere but not from this end of body which he should cover, was suffering in silence. Although he tried to push his hands as deeply as possible into shallow pockets but his coat seemed as uncompromissing as icily weather. If not more.

"Yuuri, are you cold?" Victor asked carefully, seeing the half-crouched man.

"No, of course not. Only my hands are a little chill, that's all," he murmured, playing the tough guy. However, when the milky white cloud of the answer rose above his scarf, it quite clearly proved that temperature extremily below zero had been more than enough to him.

"Give it to me."

Without waiting for his reaction, Victor hurriedly removed his leather gloves, stuffed them unceremoniously into his pocket and reached out to Yuuri. Victor grabbed his wrists, pulling man's hands out from his coat, then gently sliding fingers along back of his hands, he covered them with his own palms. He didn't have much larger hands, just a little bit, and yet Victor tried to protect him from cold as accurately as it was possible. Victor began to massage his stiff body with his thumbs, warming up fragments which he couldn't embrace. Bones of knuckles, perfectly visible under light skin, moved with every brush like in some unknown, mesmerizing dance. Yuuri felt warm, but it was unbound with the intensity of stroking in any way. Although they only held hands, Katsuki had impression that Victor's caress reached much, much further.

He thought that he knew Victor's hands from every side, every angle and every sense: sight, smell, taste... Every day, a little bit, a little more, he was getting to know him in ordinary small activities. When they were reaching out their hands after falling on ice. When they were preparing dinner together, instructing each other how to cut this annoying avocado, and licking leftovers of the sauce from fingers. When they, after eating, were reading books, one lying on another... And when they, after all these daily pastimes, were focusing on much more intimate pleasures, when they were touching each other or melting because of their deepest desires...

And yet, knowing all of this, Yuuri was constantly re-fascinated by Victor's hands, who gently raised their folded palms to his mouth and then he was breathing on them. He was breathing continuously, sometimes placing innocent kisses on his knuckles or on the engagement ring, he was kissing and pampering Yuuri that badly, until he finally managed to restore proper blood circulation. Then Yuuri, unknowing what to do, moved his fingers and uncertainly slipped them between Victor's fingers. Victor didn't protest. In silence, they were holding hands and just looking at each other like enchanted.

So maybe that's why the cloudy St. Petersburg surprised them once more, when snow began to fall slowly from grey sky, barely visible in daylight. But neither this nor spirited frost was noticeable anymore. Only their hands covering what was most important in the world.

And if Yuuri could fall in love with Victor a little more than earlier, today he found the perfect excuse for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome in Most Deppresing Monday of the Whole Year! I really wanted to sweeten that pain of existence a bit, so I wrote about suffering Yuuri... No, no, wrong. So I wrote about Yuuri, who is lucky to have Victor. And about small gestures, which always melt my kokoro~  
> (I think it was rather some kind of hand-porno. And I also wrote something like foot-porno but I don't know if I should translate it. Well... What YoI done to me...)  
> So! I know it's a little small chapter, but I'll try to choose something bigger next time. Any requests? Fluff or something spicy? I'll be a big help for me.  
> Ah! And I almost forgot - if you want, you can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) and [Tumblr](http://dziabara.tumblr.com/) to know about updates!  
> Thank you for your support, for your patience and kind words and I hope to see you soon!  
> :*


	7. Coupon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 27th February, 2017

***

“Yuuuuri!” Victor, dressed only in briefs, waved to him encouragingly, holding an unidentified roll of paper in his hand. “Look what I found!”

So Yuuri, lying on the bed like some sort of lord and master of his own fortune, sighed and looked up above a book that he was reading. In those few moments between toilet and cuddling to Victor he was focusing himself on reading paper literature, because Nikiforov accumulated in his apartment a tremendous amount of books and it was really hard to ignore them. But today Victor were suddenly disturbing their natural rhythm of the evening, so it made Yuuri a little surprised and curious about what's going on.

“Victor, you probably haven’t guessed yet, but, you know...” Yuuri didn’t finish his thoughts, just pointed at his glasses. “Are you going to tell me something more than my name or can I go back to reading?”

Victor unceremoniously handed to Yuuri the little card on which, as it turns out, some unskilled hand, probably belonged to the child, wrote in English: 'coupon for Yuuri'. Under this inscription, the same mystery person drawn a chubby face with messy black hair and blue glasses, clearly pointed not only to the addressee of note, but also betrayed the identity of sender.

"Triplets," Yuuri said, shaking his head. “And what is it supposed to be?”

“As the name suggests. A coupon for you.” Victor smiled widely. “I got it on that late birthday when we were in Hasetsu after our National Championships.”

“Hey, I didn't take part in it!” Yuuri groaned, but in the same time Victor, after showed the lucky coupon, took the book from his hands, put it on a table next to the bed, and placed himself into that free space, seating comfortably on Yuuri's chest. “It was two months ago! It's just expired!”

Then again, Victor turned the card and showed a second text, preventively credited on the back side of coupon, but not without errors: 'to be uzed for a year'. Yuuri touched his forehead.

“As if they knew how it would be...”

"I had a whole scroll of this, one for every person in Yu-topia," Victor confessed cheerfully, slipping hands under his chin. “I've already used all of it, but I put this last one down for a rainy day. And I luckily found it today in a shirt.”

Yuuri sighed again, because he couldn't escape from the intense blue gaze of Victor's admiration.

“And what did you do with others?” he asked, putting aside the glasses.

“I could have asked any person to fulfill a small wish. So... Triplets gave me a piggy origami. Your mother served me a double katsudon. Takeshi sharpened my skates,” he listed.

"How sweet," Yuuri admitted, but then he gave a mock look at Victor. “However, I suspect that authors didn't mean what is going on your mind right now.”

“Hmm... Who knows?”

Victor tightened Yuuri's hand on the coupon and then he moved a little closer to the face of his beloved, almost nudging his nose, and looking at him flirtatiously. At this moment, Katsuki had expected pretty nearly every command, even the most sinful ones, but yet the request he heard few seconds later surprised him with the tender tone that it was uttered.

“...kiss me.”

Yuuri blinked several times, as if he was still struggling to analyze the whole situation. What? Only a kiss? In his mind Yuuri even had thoughts to put some juicy kiss on a wide, shiny forehead and say something like 'keep the change', but when he saw Victor closing his eyelids and innocently waiting for a caress, he softened slightly. The Japanese man should keep his promises, even those which were made by others.

“But... don’t look.”

Yuuri raised his right hand to Victor's face, brushing the forehead with his fingertips. Victor shivered but he froze again, waiting for the next move. The hand moved further to his side, slipping under the fringe and combing slightly tangled hair. Yuuri felt in spaces between his fingers a pleasant tickling of soft, silver strands. He tucked them behind Victor's ear, revealing a thin eyebrow and an eyelid, behind which was hidden a beautiful sapphire eye. Right next to it, on Yuuri's finger, the engagement ring flashed, as if in substitution of blue gaze, watching his actions.

He didn't know what to do, so Yuuri leaned forward, then still holding his hand on the man's cheek, he touched his lips to Victor's lips. Oh... It was so nice and warm and soft... Slightly moist because of the lip balm and tasting like everything the best in the world, not allowing for a moment to break away from them. The sweet kiss lengthened from second to second, slowly turning into nothingness any plans to read anything, except reading from beloved lips, whispering more and more words of encouragement.

"Happy birthday, Vitya," Yuuri said between one kiss and the other.

What a tricky coupon. Now he wanted much more...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like I said, I want to publish another one chapter of "Greetings" in this week, and I made it! I'm really happy, but also a little tired, because I have a lot of work beside fanfictions... Anyway! I hope you enjoyed it even a little (maybe like Yuuri, who was not so happy when he heard about the whole situation).
> 
> If you want, you can support me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) or [Tumblr](http://dziabara.tumblr.com/) to know about updates.
> 
> Thank you for every kudos and every comment and see you next time!


	8. Smartphone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 26th February, 2017

***

Smartphone. Such a trivial thing nowadays. Something that makes life easier, so you can communicate, spend your free time, write, read, listen to the music and so on, and so on. Ordinary equipment. Nothing special.

So far, for Yuuri the phone was only a tool to deal with matters that were completely uninteresting for any random observer. He was spending hours, browsing Instagram photos of his idol, playing videos of Victor's performances indefinitely or occasionally talking with Phichit and family. Yes, it was a nice gadget, especially when he bought a charming blue phone case with poodles, but in fact the smartphone had no special meaning for him, although at the same time that phone replaced him real people more than he thought.

The change came in the same time as Victor came to his home. The smartphone stopped being the whole world for Yuuri, and began to be useful more occasionally and mainly to one, very precise task - to check what time it was. Everything because Yuuri could not wait for the next day and - as if it could help him - he almost mistreated to death the backlight button, making sure it was the right time for training, for going on a walk, for a dinner together in Yu-topia or for a wake-up call (but, unfortunately, that last thing slipped his memory after two weeks).

Speaking of wake-up calls, this feature went probably through the biggest metamorphosis. At the beginning Yuuri had huge problems with getting up and he was often late, while Victor, as befits a proper trainer, had been working like a lark from the earliest hours. The alarm clock stubbornly refused to cooperate, even if he set up a louder music or a few alarms in a row. But then, after about eight months, an additional pair of hands joined to the morning game and sometimes mistakenly pulled out the blue smartphone from under the pillow. So when Victor was laughing, Yuuri, depending on his mood, tried to take the phone from unauthorized hands to hide all that photos of handsome Russian he downloaded by years, or simply denied the absurdly early wake up with words _do not even try to run away_ , and then cuddled his mouth to the Victor's collarbone. Eventually, however, with the move to the new time zone, the alarm clock was no longer enough, so instead of it the role of wake-up call was playing by a half-naked man, who always leaned above their bed and kissed him fondly, exactly just like all that characters from the endings of old Hollywood romances, declaring: _Yuuri, coffee_.

In the same time camera experienced its personal electronic renaissance. Although Yuuri never belonged to the people who loved to capture every moment of their life (including even breakfasts or going to the toilet), now he felt he should order an additional memory card to preserve all the Victor's pics that he more or less secretly took. But the most valuable were these photos, on whom they were together - laughing, embraced or caught in an intimate moment, when Phichit just could not refuse to play a paparazzi. And sometimes, when Yuuri somehow managed to wake up earlier than his fiance, he reached for an old, proven documentation friend and quietly took a photo... a few photos... many photos, thinking that he was probably unconsciously fighting for the title of the happiest man on the world. However, Yuuri quickly came to the conclusion that he did not need a virtual joy when he had a real treasure next to him. That's why he put the smartphone back on its side, then timidly pressed his lips to the familiar forehead, cheeks, lips... until Victor finally open his eyes and embrace him, starting the wake-up call of another, more sudden kind.

And when it seemed that the electronics was no match for skates and love, completely pushed into the second plan of life, Yuuri had reminded himself about it in calm, winter evenings. He plugged a well-known cable into a port, and together with Victor they sat on the blue couch, put on one earphone and cuddled up, resting to the accompaniment of music. They were sitting as long as the three of them slowly sank into lethargy - people in their sleep, and the phone in the stand-by mode, warm thanks to connected hands.

Funny. Smartphone was such a trivial thing, and still it is so nice...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there and sorry for my absence! It was quite difficult to bring myself to work after Victuuri Week and whole Olympic Games (I watched all events, but im my timezone it was it the middle of night... so yeah, it was exciting, but tiring at the same time). And I even tried to participate in one zine... Well, it was busy time. But now I slowly begin to write a little more. And even if today's one-shot isn't spectacular, I like it quite a lot. And it's the most important thing to writer :3
> 
> So! If you want, you can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) and [Tumblr](http://dziabara.tumblr.com/) to know about updates!  
> Thanks if you're still here (despite my absence) or if you're a new reader! Thanks a lot for your support! I really appreciate it <3
> 
> See you soon! :*


	9. Console

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day - 17th January, 2017

***  
  
“Left! Run to the left!” Yurio yelled, unable to decide whether to hide under the blanket, to catch the gamepad, or maybe to play Makkachin's tie. Though he tried to stay cool, the amount of uncontrolled movements the teenager was doing showed that his nerves were already very exhausted. “Damn! He'll catch you!”  
  
“All my life was a lie...” Victor's eyes were getting bigger and bigger, when with each gunshot his life partner, passionate fiancé and caring katsudon was smashing legions of humanoid monsters without blinking an eye. “Yuuri, you... you don't have any feelings...”  
  
“It's just a game, seriously. You're making mountains out of molehills," Yuuri replied calmly, pressing the right-right-up-down combination to put down his equipment and change the weapon to the rifle.  
  
Suddenly, a huge creature appeared on the screen with a terrifying clatter. Makkachin barked curiously, seeing a frantic flickering image in a limited palette of colors, but the other observers were no longer so pleased with the visit of the new individual. An unexpected cacophony of dog and supernatural sounds made that Victor moaned and tightly clung to Yuuri's backs, and Yurio finally chose goal number three and squeezed his nose into the poodle's fur.  
  
“What a horrible devilry! Who are producing games like that?!” Yurio pointed accusingly at the screen.  
  
“We.” Yuuri raised two fingers, accepting on his own shoulders the blame of Japanese game producers. However, he quickly regretted this decision, because when Yuuri dropped his guard, he received a series of hits from his opponents. “...shit.”  
  
Yurio and Victor looked at each other. This whole night seemed to be one, big misunderstanding.  
  
“He just swore,” the teenager said.  
  
"He'd been brainwashed," the man tried to explain.  
  
"Or he was abducted by aliens.”  
  
“You think it's because of his Eros? You know, they could think that with such vitality and stamina they'll keep up their genre...”  
  
"Guys, you're disturbing me," Yuuri murmured, completely ignoring the alarming low level of comments that two Russians were exchanging. “If you don't want to help me, go to sleep.”  
  
“No! I won't do it after all those slimy and snarling things I've seen!” Yurio yelled. “And I'm the most afraid that you'll come in the night and stab me!”  
  
Yuuri sighed heavily and for the first time in twenty minutes he stopped the game. Then, to the accompaniment of disturbing music from the menu, he began to slowly rotate so he could look at both men. His eyes were hidden behind the glasses in which the glow of the blinking television were reflecting, and a silent murmur was escaping from a slightly open mouth.  
  
"Ah... So you know my secret..." he muttered. “But it was so fun to live with you...”  
  
“You won’t do this...” Yurio shook his head.  
  
“I won’t?” Yuuri was speaking in a disturbingly dispassionate voice. “No. I’m going to do it.”  
  
“Fuuuck!” The teenager jumped to his feet and, stumbling over scattered blankets, ran out of the living room to go to the bedroom.  
  
“And how about you, Nikiforov?” Katsuki asked as coldly as a moment ago. “Death is not terrible for you? Do you want... Victor?”  
  
But the man did not answer, because a moment before Yurio's escape he fell on his back and instantly lost consciousness. The artistically crumpled yukata fell from his one arm, and the hands scattered from side to side gave the whole scene a character of a crime that... did not ultimately happen. So Yuuri looked at this with astonishment for some while, then snorted an unstoppable laugh.  
  
" _Baka_ ," he summed up, grabbing one of the blankets and carefully covered sleeping Victor. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned over and kissed his beloved on his forehead. “Good night. I'm going back to the boss fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it comes - the Third Musketeer finally appeared! Writing dialogues with Yurio is really great fun and I don't have any problems to feel him and make fun of him (hovewer my youth belongs to prehistory...). And of course, this is not his only visit in 'Greetings' :)
> 
> Thank you for all your support and see you soon!


	10. Rain

It was dripping, rustling, swishing... Passersby were walking near the rows of trees, which were bending under the weight of the incessant rain. The downpour was once silent, once increased, and the curtain of water blurred shapes of gray buildings. Instead of the typical urban noise, the sound of tapping drops was hanging in the air. Like multiplied applause, which echoed from windows, from window sills, from walls, roofs of cars, cobblestones... For some skilled ear, each tone sounded different, but the richness of tones was so overwhelming that the monotonous murmur soon blended into the background and stood the part of the wet world.

On a smooth carriageway, in tram rails, and in pavement holes - in a word, wherever it could, water was gather, stand or flow. On that day, St. Petersburg transformed into the picturesque Venice of the North in the full meaning of the term. Drops falling from the sky drew endless patterns of interpenetrating circles on the surface of vast puddles. It may have seemed that countless hundreds of fingers were hitting the keys, except that instead of sounds of piano notes, the smell of earth, the chill of moisture and the soothing sound of rain were filling in the air.

The dark blue sky covered with heavy clouds looked as if the night was going to collapse in a moment, although all watches in this part of the globe showed some minutes past sixteenth.

The gray world, full of wet pavements, almost black streets and muddy lawns, was crossed by one lively element of the urban landscape - umbrellas. People, who came out from buildings, were spreading large tarps or small umbrellas above themselves, concealing from eyes and the watering can of God, who was looking out from heavens. So if anyone could look at the city from the distant perspective of clouds, he would see how multicolored, round spots are circulating around the city in some elusive, seemingly chaotic dance. But the truth was a little less poetic. It just seemed that people wanted to avoid each other, too focused on cold, damp shoes, running noses and a million other extremely important to them (but trivial to the rest of the universe) things. Statistically, every tenth resident of St. Petersburg dreamed only about a fluffy towel, every second planned to sip a cup of hot tea or something stronger...

But only one man, walking in the vicinity of the Tuchkov bridge, was not bother by the weather at all. If he had anything to complain about, he definitely preferred to complain about the cold, which was not lacking in St. Petersburg.

The sound of rain suddenly was covered up by another, much more deaf and disturbing murmur. Yuuri looked out beneath the blue umbrella, searching for a direction from which came a long echo that resembled the sound of rumbling. Whoever could have made similar sounds would have to be as huge as... as... oh, as a giant. Hungry, lazily rolling giant.

Yuuri smiled to himself and hid back under the cover, then quickened his pace a bit, wanting to hide as quickly as possible in a safe apartment before the biggest storm comes up. Well, actually he was not thinking about his own well-being or wet shoes. Above all, he did not want Victor and Makkachin to be troubled about where their missing musketeer with a package of fresh bread had disappeared. Yuuri did not care about the rain itself so much - the skater from Hasetsu had to run more than once or twice in even worse conditions. Years of life experience told him that he was not 'sugarborn' and a decent umbrella or a waterproof hood was enough security to go from point A to point B safely. Besides, the rain itself seemed to Yuuri as something really nice and needed. It washed the city from all dust, dirt, smog, exhaust, tension and thoughts. Rain cleansed it. It was a moment of respite that let people appreciate the time when beautiful, warm...

“Yuuri!” sounded from a distance. Pure tone in clean air, like a crystal bell or something like that.

Yuuri picked the umbrella up from his eyes and suddenly the world brightened as if the sunshine breaks through the dimness. But that was not it. It came from the opposite direction, from which a man with the most charming smile running out, illuminating the surroundings more effectively than even the best four-hundred-volt bulb.

“Victor!” Yuuri replied with some fear, when he noticed that his fiancé runs without any jacket. Yuuri involuntarily raised his hand with the umbrella, as if he wanted to cover the head and arms of the speeding man. “What are you doing?! You’ll get wet!”

“It's fine!” Suddenly Victor ran under the umbrella, almost swept Yuuri off his feet. Almost, because Victor immediately caught him in his arms, pressed tightly to himself and whirled in a common pirouette, amused and cheerful in the fact that he surprised his beloved one. “After all if I get wet, you'll warm me up, right?”

"You know what... You're a bigger puppy than Makkachin," Yuuri chided, but there was heard only an affection in his voice.

“I won’t deny. But do you know why?” Victor asked, finally releasing Yuuri from his shoulders to look at him. “Because I have a fantastic fiancé who lets me do it.”

His blue eyes glistened like two transparent emeralds, and small droplets of water hung from the soaked bangs, ready to drip right onto the Russian's nose, but they had not done it yet because of some magical gravity miracle. Yuuri felt himself smiling involuntarily at the sight.

Victor also looked pleased with the effect of his 'arrival like a storm', which is why he returned the smile and briefly touched his nose with Yuuri's nose.

"By the way... Good morning, my sun," Victor whispered, although it was already too late for such verbal jousting. “Can you tell me how it is that even during the rain you spread such a beautiful aura around you? Why don't all of those people walk around in sunglasses?”

"Dummy," Yuuri said, raising his hand to wipe the wet forehead of his fiancé. “You steal my text” he laughed, trying to keep the umbrella over them, to not drop a bag of bagels and to still stroke the cuddled man on his back. It was quite a breakneck thing, but he even succeeded.

“That one about the sun? But Yuuri! After all, I am unworthy of being called the sun! At most the moon because of my silvery hair and the opportunity to bathe in your immeasurable glo-mm!” Before Victor managed to get started with another romantic essay about the brightness of his beloved's beauty, Yuuri entered the game. He left the umbrella and, taking a moment of privacy, covered Victor's lips with a kiss. None of them objected. Well, none of them thought that a greeting after half an hour of separation would be possible without the kiss. So it wouldn't.

Things have changed when the thunder echoed over their heads, so the couple reflected and moved away from each other. Yuuri took advantage of Victor's inattentiveness and slipped the umbrella into Russian’s palm, hugging the bag of bread to his own chest at the same time.

"This moon is very talkative," Yuuri pointed, amused, thrusting his free hand under the Russian's shoulder. Then he looked affectionately at his fiancé and said, "So? Are we going home or are we ready to put down some roots?

"The whole area is far too wet," Victor said jokingly, and nodded toward their home located a few hundred meters away. “Let's go somewhere where we can find a suitably soft sofa for our old joints... I wanted to say: roots.”

The dryness of this joke did not cause that the storm turned back and went away to try his hand at another city, but at least it got merrier and a bit warmer. The couple resumed their march and brisky headed into the cozy flat, jumping gracefully over small puddles, as if it was a part of the hurriedly made-up choreography to their own rainy song.

“How did you know I was coming back?” Yuuri asked, overcoming a particularly long puddle, but the moment of inattention cost him a mistake while he was putting his feet. Just behind the obstacle Yuuri leaned to the left and would have finished with his foot right in the water, if Victor had not caught him immediately, pulling Yuuri by the arm under his arm.

“I noticed you from the window when you walked through the crosswalk and somehow I could not resist to run to meet you," Victor told, showing a smile in the shape of the heart. “And as it turns out, not for nothing. Thanks to my heroism, I saved one of your shoes from drowning.”

“But it makes that you look like a soaked chicken. You could have taken an umbrella at least," Yuuri pointed out as he back to normal position and bring himself closer to his fiancé.

“I didn't really have to. I knew you would let me in," Victor replied, as surely as if he were speaking the most obvious thing in the world.

Yuuri raised his eyebrows first, then smiled broadly at the declaration. If Victor were able to speak similarly innocent things more often, with more feelings hidden behind them than in many of his flowery confessions, Yuuri's heart would have no chance to survive.

“So that's your point... But how do you know that I wouldn't surprise you and let you run after me?” Yuuri noticed with a delicate mockery, but during his speaking the sound of storm thundering over them clearly increased. They peeked from under the umbrella. Although there were some parts of blue sky showing between clouds, and the rain somewhat weakened, somewhere further the dark wall testified to the inevitability of the deterioration of the weather. “Okay, I wouldn't. Otherwise I would be afraid that you would attract some lightning bolts on you," Yuuri added, eloquently looking at Victor.

“Yuuri!” Victor gasped indignantly.

"Of course, I meant that you are so tall," Yuuri explained, and laughed out loud, feeling how Victor, offended by suggestion, pushed his nose into the space beneath his ear. Still, he somehow could not help himself to not tease Victor. “My dear, big lightning rod..."

They did not say anything anymore, giggling, muttering and doing what couples in love did when they forgot about God's world. A very wet, thundering God's world. A world that looked as if it was about to sink in one minute, but somehow he did not do it because it was too full of happy madmen.

...because who exactly said that the rainy weather did not bring people closer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive me that I have been publish so little chapters this time, but I'm really busy - I'm going to publish a book in my native language (and yes, it's a collection of Greetings). Unfortunately, the editing part takes me a lot of time, so in every free moment I must sit and check all texts I wrote past half year. But I did't forget about you, really ;u;  
> So I hope that even if the weather is different in your towns, I was able to draw you into rainy atmosphere for a moment.  
> Keep calm and see you next time!


End file.
